


When'd I become my own enemy?

by xPhoenixFlamex



Series: Sandcastle Kingdoms [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Character Death, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, I Made Myself Cry, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot, POV Keith (Voltron), Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 04, Run-On Sentences, Self-Hatred, just a few
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 19:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xPhoenixFlamex/pseuds/xPhoenixFlamex
Summary: Voltron doesn’t see this, Keith remarks detachedly as he wipes the blood off of his hands from when he tried but failed to save another rebel. They don’t know the numbers of rebels dying every day in the hope that they were bringing the universe one step closer to stopping Zarkon.How could they?They haven’t experienced loss of life on such a scale at such a close distance like this. They don’t have to talk to these people, learn their name and story, before watching them die in order for some greater cause.They are a part of the battle, but they still walk above it like gods. They don’t know that every decision they make has the lives of hundreds on the line. Thousands.Maybe even more.That was why he doesn’t hesitate.“Maybe not with our weapons.”





	When'd I become my own enemy?

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from StopRewind by Nate Sharp. There are a few lines of the song at the very beginning, but nowhere else. This is not a songfic, just inspired by the music.

_When'd I become my own enemy?_

_I don't understand what you see in me,_

_'Cause I'm just another story_

_(That's not worth a reading)_

* * *

 

There’s been a sense of urgency in the air for far too long, and Keith wishes it would just leave him alone.

To be fair, they are at war, and they have known that since the beginning. They have been soldiers on the battlefield since the first time the piloted the Lions. Keith had agreed to that - they all had. They had all been willing to fight and suffer and sacrifice for the betterment of the entire universe, because what else could they do? Sit idly by while some psychopathic evil Emperor killed or enslaved them all?

Still, it was as if it hadn’t sunk in until recently. Keith can’t track it back to a specific moment where they all became hardened, but he can estimate that the sense of urgency and seriousness that filled the air practically everywhere they went. It dated back to when Shiro disappeared after fighting Zarkon, and has lingered despite him being returned to them.

It had only gotten worse when Keith became the Black Paladin; he could feel the weight of the entire universe crushing him, threatening to suffocate him every single moment. Was this what Shiro felt? Allura? Any of them?

How did _they_ cope?

How did they manage to fall back to sleep after being awoken by the demons this war brought them? How did they manage to walk away from the battle and mentally run over the numbers of how many they had been unable to save? How did they manage to smile and joke as the war slowly wore away their innocence?

Of course, it wasn’t like Keith could ask them. He had never been the type to talk to people with emotions. His brand of self-care was _suck it up, outlast it, and don’t let anyone else find out._

(In his defense, it had worked for him so far.)

So yeah, asking for help had never really even been a possibility in his mind.

Joining the Blade did not help matters.

It had been a relatively easy decision as he had attempted to view it as objectively as possible. Shiro was the best to lead Voltron, and sooner or later the Black Lion would realize that and accept him once more. When that happened, there would be no place for him on Voltron, and he would have outlasted his usefulness.

His life has been a constant motion. His mother had left him because he was no longer beneficial to her. The Garrison kicked him out because he was useless after Shiro’s disappearance emotionally compromised him. He knew that outlasting his usefulness would just lead to Voltron leaving him as well.

So, he did the logical thing and left first.

The problem was that it did not help his mental or emotional state. He was plunged right into the heart of the war and realized that Voltron hadn’t been completely touched by the war. The Paladins and Alteans had been at the heart of the fight against Zarkon, but they weren’t as wounded and battle-scarred as they could have been. They were the eye of the storm - safe and dry from the rain, but still in the thick of it.

The Blade of Marmora, however, was completely different. It meant stealth missions. It meant close-quartered fighting and no incredibly powerful Lions to depend on.

He was forced to watch his fellow members die around him as he was unable to save them. Even if he could, he was technically not allowed to.

 _The mission is more important,_ they would all tell him. _It is bigger than any one being. Focus on the mission._

They’d say this, and then Keith would have to watch them die. Decapitation. Electrocution. Suffocation. Explosion. Blood loss.

Voltron doesn’t see this, Keith remarks detachedly as he wipes the blood off of his hands from when he tried but failed to save another rebel. They don’t know the numbers of rebels dying every day in the hope that they were bringing the universe one step closer to stopping Zarkon.

How could they?

They haven’t experienced loss of life on such a scale at such a close distance like this. They don’t have to talk to these people, learn their name and story, before watching them die in order for some greater cause.

They are a part of the battle, but they still walk above it like gods. They don’t know that every decision they make has the lives of hundreds on the line. Thousands.

Maybe even more.

That was why he doesn’t hesitate.

_“Maybe not with our weapons.”_

Because what else can he do? He is no longer in the eye of the storm. He is no longer one of the gods that carried the weight of the universe with every step. He had proven to be too weak to handle that responsibility.

His job now was to be like those around him. Regris. Kalix. Taline. They were the ones he had grown closest to, before watching each fall and fade away until they were nothing more than a memory. A story - one of friendship during wartime that ended in tragedy, because there could be nothing more between soldiers.

His job now is to do his part until it is his time to be a story.

He can remember the time before they became hardened as he plunged his ship headfirst into the shield. His entire body is tense and his heart is beating so fast and his instincts scream _stop it before it’s too late there’s no coming back from this._

He closes his eyes, wanting his last thought would be of his team and not of how death felt.

He thinks of all the stories he knows, and wondered if there would be anyone to tell his. Probably not, he surmises. His story isn’t a good one, or even one that anyone can learn from.

His story would be of a dark-haired boy from the desert who knew loneliness too well, even before he was swept up into an intergalactic war. It would be of a boy too weak to fulfil his destiny.

It would also, apparently, be of a boy who couldn’t even die correctly.

Light fills his vision, and his body takes advantage of his sudden surprise to instinctively pull up out of the dive. His ship shakes and he has to grip the wheel tightly to maintain control. He is disoriented, having been shocked out of his firm resolve of self-sacrifice by something he couldn’t quite see. The light is blinding. What happened? Is he too late? Had someone else-

Lotor.

_Lotor had saved them all._

_“Good work, Keith.”_

_“It wasn’t me.”_

Of course he is so incompetent that _their enemy_ had to save everyone. Of course.

He underestimated how weak he was. _Is._

His body is shaking, and he slowly releases his hold on the wheel in an attempt to get himself to stop. He can’t pilot in this condition. Not with his head spinning and his body shaking and he _can’t breathe-_

He’s not aware of how long it takes him to get a grip on reality. The next time he’s completely aware of what’s happening, his mind has already taken over, flying back to Kolivan and his outpost because they’re in a war and he has no time for anything else. Lotor had wanted to talk to the Paladins, and he isn’t one. That was that.

That didn’t stop him from shaking. That didn’t stop tears from falling as he curses and wipes them away haphazardly because _damn it,_ he isn’t a kid anymore. He’s a soldier.

If Kolivan notices him trembling slightly as he grits out a quick debrief, or how his eyes are red from crying, he doesn’t say anything. He probably thinks it is a human thing. Keith had noticed that, while treating him like any other of the Blades, Kolivan _really_ doesn’t know how to handle some other species, humans being one of them.

Keith is fine with that. If it meant Kolivan wouldn’t ask any questions, then he is perfectly and utterly _fine._ He doesn’t need anyone. He never has.

(He cries himself softly to sleep that night, gripping his pillow tightly as the moment before Lotor came repeats itself over and over again and _he is going to die_ _shit he doesn’t want to die he wants to live and be with Voltron and be strong like everyone else is._ )

He receives a transmission in the morning from the Castle. The writing indicates that Lance sent it and his entire heart is in pain when he reads it. They want to talk to him. Not about the war or Lotor but they just want to check up on him.

He knows they probably realized they’ve been neglecting him lately. They’ve been so busy with their little Voltron shows and Coalition treaties that Naxcela shocked them back and served as a reminder that they were soldiers. Warriors.

Keith doesn’t write back. If they need to talk strategies, they can talk to Kolivan or a tactician. If they need to work things out with Lotor, then they have plenty of diplomats.

Keith doesn’t need another reminder of the tenseness in the air that’s worked its way underneath his skin. He knows about the war - it’s been echoing and bouncing around his head with every nightmare and panic attack - and he needs to train more because Zarkon’s Empire isn’t taking a break to talk about their feelings. They’re being strong. He needs to be strong.

Voltron works with Lotor. He’s still to shaken up to really pay attention to their agreement or anything about it. He’s not one of the Blades that’s assigned to that mission. He’s still working on his long one - the one that led him to leave Voltron. He could easily leave it for a while, he knew, as Kolivan would understand completely. Another Blade could replace him for a short time and he would be able to see the Paladins again and talk to them for the first time since Naxcela.

He instead refuses to look back, and returns to his own mission with newfound vigor. He tries to stay strong and not thing of Lotor or Voltron or _Naxcela_ -

Two of his squadmates die. Their bodies are unable to be recovered. They were blown to pieces before Keith’s very eyes.

Two new stories. Two people that were nearly friends and would have been if Keith had been more stable and open dead. Two lives extinguished.

Keith’s breaking. He’s cracking. He’s going to lose his usefulness with the Blade too, he knows. He covers it up, but they’re not stupid.

He’s aware that whatever deal with Lotor Voltron works, but there was a complication. No one was hurt, but there’s a vagueness in the files that unsettles him. Or it's just his imagination, since he _is_ looking through mission files in the middle of the night sweaty from a nightmare, needing some semblance of reassurance that the Paladins weren’t all dead.

It’s another day before Kolivan calls him in, claiming Voltron is requesting his presence for an inter-Paladin matter that is of the utmost priority. He phrases it so that Keith can’t possibly back out, much less for emotional reasons.

The next thing he knows he’s in a fighter jet for one that looks _too much_ like the one he piloted at Naxcela for him to be fully aware of everything with the coordinates for the Castle’s location.

He sends out the standard request to board when he’s close, internally grateful that his voice doesn’t crack as his entire body feels hollow with the sight of the Castle and the thought that this is only temporarily. That he’s now in the eye of the storm and soon enough he’ll have to plunge headfirst back into the cold and ruthless storm of war.

He spends an extra few moments after he lands in the hangar to compose himself. He takes a few deep breaths and maybe compartmentalizes his emotions and shove all the thoughts away before stepping out of the fighter.

“Keith!” Hunk is the one that calls out first, and he turns to see the others there, rushing forward. He’s glad for the warning because Pidge doesn’t give one as she throws herself at him and hugs him tightly. She’s just released when Hunk gives him a half hug as Lance playfully punches him on the shoulder. Allura maintains a respectful distance, but smiles at him and nods in acknowledgement.

(He’s glad for the warning because it’s what makes him able to keep up his facade. He doesn’t flinch away or react badly. He doesn’t let them know that he’s nearly completely useless because he doesn’t want to remind them of how awful he was as a leader. He wants to maintain the illusion that he’ll be welcomed back after his mission is over. That the Blade is only a temporary break from Voltron.

He knows better, but he needs this. He needs to pretend for a while.)

“Dude!” Lance exclaims, “You’ve been ignoring our messages. What, you’re too busy with your top-secret ninja stuff?” He asks, and Keith gets a quick sense of déjà vu. Lance always used to goad him like this, and Keith would let him. Their arguments weren’t playful, per say, but they were lighthearted and never cut too deep. It was a consistent interaction that they both fell back on as the war got rougher.

Now, he’s too hardened for it. He doesn’t know how to participate anymore. When was the last time he engaged in a lighthearted conversation, much less small talk or a mock argument?

“Yeah, it’s been busy,” He says, trying to forget the faces of Vegri and Livon, the two members of his squad that had died. That’s he failed to save. “Sorry.”

Something passes over Lance’s face quickly, and Keith knows he probably should have been more convincing. It hits him too late that his response should have been something along the lines of a tease about the Voltron shows. Probably something specific, to indicate that he’s seen them.

He hasn’t. There rarely was time and when there was he was never emotionally or mentally stable to be reminded of what he left behind. Of what left him behind.

“What’s the problem?” He asks, forcing those thoughts away before his mask can crack any further. It’s hard already. They’re all too close and even though they’re all hardened and rougher they still seem so _happy_ and _strong_ and he just _doesn’t understand why he’s so useless._

The smiles fade away, and it’s Allura who sighs before answering. “It’s Shiro.”

And with that, they explain. They explain Project Kuron and the goal to take Voltron apart from the inside out. They mention how they had to patch themselves together and just managed to take him down before he took them down. They describe their mission to find the real Shiro, and how he was currently in a cryopod resting from _everything_ and how it was probably a good idea if Keith was there when he woke up which was supposed to be later today.

Keith just feels sick. He feels even worse. Kuron had tricked everyone, sure, but it had also tricked _him._ He had known Shiro since he was young and spent so much time with the man and Shiro was practically his brother and _an imposter had taken his place and Keith never knew._

He feels numb and doesn’t react for a while, but that’s no cause for concern. It’s big news, and the others can’t be blamed for not realizing that it’s not just shock, but also deep-seated emotional issues and probably - if he was honest with himself - some PTSD that’s causing him to react like this. He’s kept them all at an arm’s length for so long that they can’t see behind his mask.

Keith prefers it this way. He can’t let them know how weak he is. How _stupid_ he is.

He manages to get out some sort of response that he can’t even remember a few moments later and he’s detachedly aware of being led to the cryopods. Shiro’s there. His hair is slightly longer and he’s ragged but he’s _there_ and _alive_ and _real._

Time passes like he’s in a dream. Hunk leaves at one point and brings back food for everyone as they camp out near the cryopods. Keith takes one look and his stomach tightens and nausea roars at him and he says he ate before coming. They ask him about his missions at some points and he replies robotically, as if he’s talking to Kolivan and it’s just another debrief.

Then suddenly the pod is hissing open, and Coran is catching Shiro.

Keith nearly breaks down on the spot as everything hits him at once. Shiro doesn’t know of Keith’s time piloting the Black Lion, or that Keith is with the Blade now, or how _weak_ he had become.

The room seems too small all of a sudden, but he can’t move. He has to force himself to breath because _this is supposed to be a happy moment. Don’t ruin it just because you’re too weak to do anything._

So when Shiro turns to him, he smiles. It’s fake and unconvincing, but Shiro’s interrupted by the others to ask what’s wrong.

They lead him to the kitchen unceremoniously, where Hunk already made a rather spectacular meal that Shiro dives into while they talk. Keith doesn’t sit, but stands close enough to the table that no one can call him out for it.

“We looked for you for a long time before we switched Lions,” Pidge tells him, before detailing their change. Allura took over Blue, Lance took Red, and Keith, Black.

Shiro looks back over Keith with a smile on his lips that dies quickly when he takes in the Blade. “Why are you wearing that?” He asks after a moment, and the others quiet down and their gazes flicker to Keith.

“I work with the Blade of Marmora now,” He says simply, ignoring how his heart twists and breaks at the words and the look on Shiro’s face.

He’s not the one who has to explain Kuron to Shiro, and he uses the time to readjust his grip on reality. That means he’s steady enough for when Shiro looks back at him.

“Something else happened, didn’t it?” Shiro’s spent nearly a year with the Galra again, but he’s no less sharp for it.

The room goes deadly quiet, and Keith can’t help but think of every single Blade he’s seen die.

They expect him to answer, he knows, and it takes him a few moments before he does. “Pidge found Matt,” He says, thankful for an escape. “He’s alive and well with the rebels.”

That changes the atmosphere drastically, as Pidge brightens and launches into a whole explanation for Shiro.

He slips away silently, making his way back to the ship. He can’t say another goodbye. He’ll just leave quietly and they won’t even notice and it will be better for everyone that day. That means that next time he’s on the casualty report, they won’t have to blame themselves for letting him leave again, and they can forget his story easier.

He’s at the hangar before the sound of thudding footsteps fill the halls behind him, and he turns to see the others all there, looking at him with wide eyes of shock and confusion and...panic?

He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but no sound comes out.

“Keith,” Shiro says softly, and he takes a step forward.

Keith reflexively takes a step back, before freezing as a sad realization goes over the group in front of him like a wave.

He had been found out, hadn’t he? They had realized how weak he was. He had failed this one simple mission.

He shouldn’t go back to the Blade. He should probably leave them their fighter then disappear. He was too weak to fight in this war any longer.

“Don’t,” He interrupts when Shiro opens his mouth again, and he turns before the tears burning in his eyes are exposed. “Don’t...I have my mission to get back to. It’s...good...to see you...again.” He has to force the words out, loathing how cold and impersonal they sound.

“We don’t think you should go back to the Blade,” Lance blurts out, and Keith’s entire body freezes and he doesn’t dare look back in case he’s hearing things.

“Matt told us about Naxcela, Keith,” Pidge’s voice says softly. “We...we know what you were planning on doing. We need to talk about it, Keith-”

“Talk about what?” He snarls suddenly, something inside of him finally snapping and there are tears in his eyes and he’s _shaking again._ “What do you want to say? How I’m too weak to even _die_ the right way? That I shouldn’t even be fighting in this war because I’m so useless? Well, don’t worry!” He spits out humorlessly, “I already know.”

And suddenly Shiro is there. _Shiro._ The man who saved him from loneliness back on Earth. He has his arms wrapped around him in a way that somehow is just _more_ than Kuron and a part of him wonders how he couldn’t realize that that wasn’t Shiro because there’s so much _emotion._

The others join in quickly, and Keith chokes out another sob because they’re all saying how much they _missed_ and _love_ Keith and the words are flying around in the air and take the breath from his lungs but in the best way possible. They whisper the opposite of everything he’s been telling himself.

“You’re not useless,” Lance whispers.

“You’re irreplaceable.” Pidge cries into his chest.

“Your emotions matter.” Hunk tells him.

“It’s okay to cry,” Allura says gently.

“You can let it out,” Coran informs him.

“We’re here for you.” They all say. “Stay.”

He can’t find it in himself to refuse.

The last time they had a hug like this, it was because Keith was leaving.

Now, it’s because Keith is staying.

He’s broken, he knows. He’s been scarred. The nightmares and panic attacks won’t disappear overnight.

But now he’s not alone. He has others to help him. He has people to talk to and vent to and to understand and help.

His story has other characters, and suddenly there’s a chance it won’t be a tragedy after all.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is xphoenixwritingx.tumblr.com scream at me there please.
> 
> Also, the original (sad) ending of this story can be found on my tumblr. It's tagged under 'xextras' in case you're curious to see how this was going to end. Archive Warning though - major character death. Good luck.


End file.
